She’d already called Grinnie back and explained the change in her plans, and Grinnie had been full of all kinds of eager questions and curiosity. Bunny didn’t know what she was doing there so she hadn’t had any answers to give her.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing at the tissue-wrapped package on the table at his elbow.
Without looking at it, Joseph laid his hand gently on the object and slid it across the table. Leaving his hand on the tissue, he said, “I may be opening a can of worms by doing this, but I want you to understand.”
“Understand what?”
He opened his mouth to speak but then let out a breath and closed his lips, evidently weighing his words before speaking. She wished that was a talent she was better at, and she waited.
His gaze held hers as he withdrew his hand from the package. “Me.”
“You?” The tissue was cool under her palm, and she felt the lines of a hardback book within. “A book?”
She still hadn’t read the books she’d bought from Violet Tyler. In a moment of bravery, she’d gone to Violet’s bookstore, not realizing the proprietor had been a guest at Joseph’s…whatever it was he was having when she’d last been at Hazelle House. She’d gotten the books home and had promptly hidden them under her mattress, like a pre-teen hiding her diary. And there they’d stayed because she was a coward. What was within the tissue? Coming from a Dom, or whatever he was, it had to be even worse, even closer to the truth of what he was on the inside.
“It’s not a snake, Bunny. I promise.” There was amusement in his voice.
“I’m not much of a reader.” You’re fifty shades of a big ol’ fibber and a coward to boot.
Her inner devil was flapping her elbows like a chicken and going bawk-bawk-bawk when Joseph’s warm hand suddenly slid over hers, startling her.
“Would you read this for me? I’m not asking for anything else.”
“If I do, you’re going to want to show me your chamber of horrors, aren’t you? That’s the next step, right?” Did she want that?
Erupting into laughter, he said, “Mona told me you’d called it that.”
“Well, it seems appropriate, after what happened last time I was in your house.” She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and gotten tangled up, literally, with a Dom who had a chase-and-capture fantasy featuring a redhead. He’d set eyes on her and thought she was it. She’d wound up gagged, hog-tied, and screaming for Joseph on the second story landing outside the crowded ballroom.
“Maybe so,” he conceded, lifting his glass in acknowledgment. “I would rather have introduced you to what I do in a less dramatic way. Conrad was as stunned as you, I think.”
“You’ll understand if I wasn’t paying attention to his feelings so much. I was just glad you heard me yell.”
“I think the whole mansion heard you, fiammetta.”
“Why do you call me that?”
Joseph licked his lips. “I’ll tell you…after you’ve read the book.” He settled back in his chair. “Your food is getting cold. It would be a shame for you to not enjoy Carmen’s cooking while it’s still hot.” He picked up his glass and took another sip before digging into his meal.
Doing the same, she put the first forkful in her mouth and had to close her eyes, chewing slowly. “Mmm.” Divine didn’t even begin to describe the delicacy of the flavors and the textures. “Oh my.”
“It’s good, isn’t it?” he asked, his raspy voice powerful but gentle, and she knew his eyes were on her.
He was referring to the food, but her imagination took his words and extrapolated, fantasies flitting through her mind as her cheeks filled with heat.
She’d been afraid to crack open the books Violet had sold to her, but not because she feared what was hidden behind the locked doors in his mansion. She was afraid of discovering something she couldn’t do without. And always present in her mind was the truth that his life was too different from hers.
Opening her eyes, she fastened her gaze on his hands, holding the heavy stainless steel fork. Poised and so accomplished, so confident of his place in the universe. They weren’t the hands of a man who stayed inside handling papers all day. The veins stood out on the tanned skin of the tops, dark hairs sprinkled lightly across the surface. His thumb slid back and forth along the handle of the fork, and her nipples hardened as she watched the callused digit. She swallowed and the gulping sound was so loud that her cheeks grew even hotter.
He let out a soft breath across the table, and the light hairs on her forearm rose in response to the gentle puff of air. “You’re beautiful with your cheeks filled with color, fiammetta.”